


"You Are Loved"

by VolarFinch



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, Other, Underband, Undertale AU, bandtale, undertale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 15:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10027592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolarFinch/pseuds/VolarFinch
Summary: Toriel managed to break from the crowd, ignoring the sound of her incoming train as she gazed at an unbelievable sight.“‘Cause, I’ve stood right where you’re standing, bruised, battered, beaten down,” a petite child sang softly, fingers strumming a worn guitar with ease. “Wore the frown, but I’m here to tell you––you are looooooved, you are loved.”Toriel stood still for a moment, shocked at the messy–haired child before them, who got no regards from the others around. It seemed that only Toriel could actually see and hear them––everyone else around them was just too busy to stop and care. She glanced around worriedly––where was this child’s parents? Why were they left alone here of all places?





	

Toriel Dreemurr pushed her way through the crowded New York streets, a definite frown on her pale face as directed herself into the flow of people that were making their way into the subway station. She didn’t have much time until her train arrived and then left, so it was imperative for her to not dawdle, which she was quite notorious for when it came to new places. However, this time she really couldn’t afford to be slow––a major snowstorm was scheduled to hit early that evening and she had to be on her plane before that happened. She wouldn’t want to worry her family by being late, after all.

Finally pushing past the heavy swarm of people, Toriel took a moment to glance around and wonder where her train was. Her guide hadn’t shown up as he had promised, so she’d been on her own the entire day as she attempted to navigate the subway stations––key word being ‘attempted’. So far, she’d missed her original train four different times throughout the day, and this time she wasn’t going to let her ineptitude at guiding through crowded cities stop her.

Pulling her coat closer and adjusting her grip on her suitcase, she started out again, having spotted the section her train was located.

Five minutes of shoving, tugging, and speed walking later, Toriel arrived at where her subway would pull in. She grinned to herself, proud of the small accomplishment. The past week had been a rough one, as not only had the deal and partnership with that new, up–and–coming artist (what was his name again?) failed, but another student had dropped out of the school she and her husband ran. She had her suspicions that Flowey was at work again, but she kept her thoughts to herself, not daring to express her opinion to her husband. He was far too lenient on the child than she’d prefer, which was saying something with how kind she was in general.

She glanced down at her watch, huffing out an annoyed sigh. “That train couldn’t come any faster, could it?” she muttered blandly.

In her moment of irritancy, a vaguely familiar sound drifted to her ears. She paused, glancing around for the source. Who was playing guitar in  _ this  _ station, of all places? 

“Surely there has to be a better station than this,” she murmured, finding her feet moving of their own accord as she followed the sound. The melody she trailed was a bittersweet one, telling a story of pain, loss, yet love and kindness that nearly brought her to tears. The closer she got to the noise, the more prominent another sound became––someone was singing to the instrumental.

Toriel managed to break from the crowd, ignoring the sound of her incoming train as she gazed at an unbelievable sight.

“‘ _ Cause _ ,  _ I’ve stood right where you’re standing, bruised, battered, beaten down, _ ” a petite child sang softly, fingers strumming a worn guitar with ease.  _ “Wore the frown, but I’m here to tell you––you are looooooved, you are loved.” _

Toriel stood still for a moment, shocked at the messy–haired child before them, who got no regards from the others around. It seemed that only Toriel could actually see and hear them––everyone else around them was just too busy to stop and care. She glanced around worriedly––where was this child’s parents? Why were they left alone  _ here  _ of all places?

Behind Toriel, the train she’d been anxiously waiting for pulled in. Still, she didn’t move to board; she didn’t even notice the train pull in, eyes locked with the disheveled child before her. The child stopped playing, their voice disappearing as their gaze drifted downwards, grip on the guitar tightening as they released a shaky breath. The longer Toriel stared, the more noticeable certain things became––the child’s hair was obviously unbrushed and greasy, and had been for a while; the ridiculously large sweater was falling apart with a large gaping hole in the sleeve and multiple stains littered the blue and purple material; the child was wearing  _ shorts, _ of all articles of clothing, in the dead of winter!

Toriel didn’t care about the train anymore. “Nothing again,” the child said softly, gazing down sadly at the empty guitar case.

It suddenly clicked in Toriel’s head what was happening––the child was  _ homeless. _

“Always tomorrow,” the child continued, a worn determination in their voice, as though they didn’t entire believe themselves. “Tomorrow. Just gotta’… stay determined.”

And suddenly, Toriel Dreemurr was in “Mom Mode” (as her husband put it), walking towards the brunette and crouching in front of them. At the sound of their approach, the child’s head lifted, brown eyes meeting Toriel’s amber. The brunette gripped their guitar tightly, defensive about the instrument. Toriel was so surprised at the action that she stayed quiet, but it made sickening sense to her. Who knew how long this child had been on the streets, how well they knew this area, or how many times someone had threatened to take the instrument from them?

“No need to be afraid,” she spoke up gently. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The child was quiet for a moment, still defensive as they offered her a suspicious look. “A––are you the p––police?” they inquired, teeth chattering as the cold seemed to settle into their bones.

“No, I am not,” Toriel replied. “My name is Toriel Dreemurr––I really liked your singing and playing.”

The child’s defenses dropped instantaneously, blinking as they tried shrinking into their sweater. Their cheeks, already red from the cold, darkened further. The blush could be seen through the old bandaid they had taped to their face. Toriel put a smile on her face. 

“You have a very special talent there,” she continued, “playing guitar and singing like that. I could really  _ feel  _ what you were feeling as your played. You’re quite exceptional, much like my own children.”

“T––thanks,” the child stuttered out, flustered from the sudden swarm of compliments. They tried to further hide themselves in the sweater. “I––um, it’s––“ They struggled to find words, shivering from a sudden gust of frigid air from above. Toriel gasped, taking off her coat and went to wrap it around the child, who nearly hit their head as they stumbled back. Toriel was stunned.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she repeated carefully.

“H––how c––can I be s––sure?” the child argued weakly, clutching the guitar again, defense again. A few strings hummed at the touch. “I––just be––because you’re a––acting so nice doesn’t m––mean I can trust you! I––I––I can’t afford to trust you so easily…”

_ This child’s been hurt before,  _ Toriel thought, a pain in her chest at the thought.  _ Their trust has been tested too many times and now…  _

“I know I can’t really ask this of you,” Toriel started, offering her hand out, “but I want to help you. I have a place with people like you, with people who’ll consider you family if you open up to them, with people who will  _ hear  _ you and your beautiful music. But, that’s only if you trust me enough to come with me. This is your choice, and I trust you to make the decision you see best fit for you.”

The child was silent, eyes set on Toriel’s face with unease and uncertainty. 

Maybe it was child innocence; maybe it was that they knew that Toriel was sincere; maybe they just had nothing to lose. Whatever the reason was, Toriel didn’t care at the moment––she was just happy that this child found it in themselves to trust someone one last time as they put their small, hesitant hand in her’s.


End file.
